[There are several sides to Alec, each kept in their neat little box, most with their different names, none of them more than a negligible percentile of what little he knows or remembers of his true self. What fewer people still know than even know this is that he can flip between them at will: open a door, flip a switch and be standing in a different dressing room, close the door gently behind him. His smile fades, leaving the weight of his gaze behind, missing nothing as it never once did.
There is no recognition for this - whatever this is, this communication, this message - in him when she signals the connection is secure. He already knows it's as secure as it can be from his side, locked to the laptop through Eyes Only's channels and resources, piggybacked into half a dozen stolen IP addresses and tied up neatly to nowhere. It's only wherever the hell she's sitting that he's worried about, but he already gambled once on her attention to detail and he is free now.]
[private]
There is no recognition for this - whatever this is, this communication, this message - in him when she signals the connection is secure. He already knows it's as secure as it can be from his side, locked to the laptop through Eyes Only's channels and resources, piggybacked into half a dozen stolen IP addresses and tied up neatly to nowhere. It's only wherever the hell she's sitting that he's worried about, but he already gambled once on her attention to detail and he is free now.]
What do you need?